


Feel the Rhythm In My Chest, Just Breathe

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: As you do, Beau replies to yasha's letter, Canon Timeline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Kiss, Flash Fic, Nightmares, dome snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Having her mind controlled again doesn't tend to sit well with Yasha and they're all missing the tower, but all things considered the culmination of events does provide an unexpected opportunity for Beau and Yasha to get a little closer - date or no date.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 14
Kudos: 264





	Feel the Rhythm In My Chest, Just Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted Beau comforting Yasha after a nightmare and it kind of got away from me. :)

They slept closer together that night, lit softly by the transparent dome as the snow fell ceaselessly above and around them. It would have been a lot cozier, Beau thought, getting to lie here next to Yasha and watch the ceiling fill up with white bullshit - would have been great, if not for the... _company_ fifteen feet from their dome.

Beau hoped they froze, and she hated them more for the distant twinge of regret she felt when she thought of what it might be like to see Molly's body dead again if they did.

Yasha had already dozed off beside her, and Beau took the opportunity to let her eyes roam over that calm expression, those soft lips parted in quiet rest. She couldn't forget that Yasha had never seen Molly dead - it didn't matter much who was piloting the body if Lucien beefed it. That body and the person that might still be inside it in some way had meant something to all of them once, and to none more than Yasha.

So she hoped his creepy eyes froze shut. It seemed a good compromise.

To be fair, getting to sleep close to Yasha was a pretty great consolation prize. Foiled date notwithstanding, sometimes the tower just felt isolating. _Quiet._

Most of the top of the dome was a solid sheet of darkness now, but even if it had been clear Beau would have a hard time looking away from Yasha. It would have felt voyeuristic just a day ago, to lie here and watch her sleep, but in truth the majority of Beau's thoughts had been occupied by Yasha's soft, determined, "I l- I like you, Beau."

Beau knew that, in a way, in the same way she knew the ocean was big. But it was one thing to know something, and another to be confronted by it. She hadn't expected the ocean to notice her back, was all.

The ocean in question twitched gently in her sleep, a long strand of black and white hair slipping down to rest just over her cheek. Beau wasn't brave enough to reach out and put it back, not yet, but she was strangely content just to know there was a possibility - that one day she'd reach out and touch Yasha on reflex. Just the idea that she could one day was more than Beau had ever dared to hope, and she drifted to sleep half-drunk on the thought of it.

* * *

When her eyes opened a few hours later, Beau wasn't immediately certain why. Everything around her was still and quiet; Caduceus sat with his back straight and his head outside of the dome. Presumably he was getting snowed on. Beau wasn't terribly thrilled at the thought of that being her tomorrow night, but hey. You gave up creature comforts when you were a group of assholes trying to play keepaway with another group of assholes.

She let her gaze wander back to Yasha, fully intending to drift back to sleep, and saw immediately what must have woken her. Yasha's eyes were shut tight and her breath came in tiny, irregular sips. The hand resting between her and Beau twitched minutely in time with a small ridge between her brows that deepened or uncurled but never relaxed, and that in itself was difficult to spot through the additional strands of silvery hair that had drifted to partially cover her face.

Even with the white streaking through her hair, she looked so similar to the version of her that they had met those months ago - that raw wire of pain and loss that stood out more to Beau for all that Yasha did to suppress it. She wasn't suppressing it now - there was nothing but the grip of sleep between her dreams and Beau watching her.

Beau hesitated for a moment, but concern won out in the end.

"Yasha?" She whispered it as softly as she could, casting a quick glance to Caduceus. He could almost certainly hear her. That was fine. "Yash, wake up. It's okay."

Yasha's head snapped to the side and it wasn't so much a whimper Beau heard as a higher-pitched snatch of air as whatever she saw behind her eyes made a further wreck of her sleep.

"Yasha, hey." Beau waited another second and then pushed her hand along the floor of the dome, hardly daring to breathe. She touched a fingertip to Yasha's trembling one, watching her face. It was awful to see her this way, and not for the first time, Beau considered all of the many reasons Yasha had to be a restless sleeper. Once she had started thinking about it those months ago, she'd found it a wonder that Yasha slept all.

She had looked so peaceful earlier, though, and maybe Beau could help her get back to that.

Emboldened, she slid her fingers gently between Yasha's and squeezed. "Yasha, it's Beau. Wake up for me, okay?" Yasha's hand jerked and stilled again immediately, and those dual-colored eyes opened with a lightning strike of feral defensiveness and grief blended into one.

Her gaze cleared in the next instant and she blinked rapidly, breathing still irregular. "Beau?" Caduceus's ear might have flicked, but Beau wasn't actively watching or caring anymore because she could see now that the eyes fixed to hers were shiny in the dim light, rimmed pink.

"Hey," she whispered. "You were having a bad dream."

Yasha's fingers between Beau's were sleep-warm and gripping hers firmly, and she turned those damp eyes to regard their hands with a flat expression that Beau couldn't read. Beau might have pulled away and stammered an apology in the next second, but Yasha curled in on herself suddenly and pressed Beau's hand to her mouth. Her lips were drawn tightly shut as she breathed through her nose and tried to stabilize, but her shoulders were shaking and nope, this was no time for Beau to be worrying about overstepping. She was going to have to go with her instincts here, and every one of them screamed that Yasha needed comfort - however that looked.

Beau had never been blind to the softness that dwelled beneath Yasha's skin, but it struck her suddenly how even under the drag of sleep, even after a nightmare, her base instinct was to comfort, to be gentle. Yasha's strength, Beau knew, had been born of the fury at having her softness denied and taken from her. What Beau wouldn't give to be the keeper of a heart like that - she would burn the world to let Yasha love so loudly.

Beau pulled herself closer and pushed Yasha's hair back thoughtlessly with her free hand. "It's okay." Individual silver strands stuck to her damp cheek like tiny moonbeams, and Beau curled her finger at her temple to free them too. "You're safe."

Yasha's face threatened to crumple around her wide eyes as she looked Beau over, and Beau didn't miss the way she lingered a little too long on the scar peeking from below her soft shirt. "I'm sorry," Yasha said brokenly. "I couldn't resist the light, and you -"

Beau didn't have to guess what she meant. The sallow, creepy bulb of the demon baby had swung through many of her thoughts in the last day and probably a couple of dreams too. She just mostly had the benefit of being unable to recall if it had.

Yasha startled at Beau's hand cupping her cheek and looked from what she could see of it back to Beau's face. "I'm okay," Beau whispered. "It was just a dream." Yasha's eyes screwed shut and she turned her face into Beau's touch, little puffs of hot air sending electricity up the inside of her arm with each breath. "Hey," Beau coaxed. "Look at me. I'm here. I'm fine. You pulled me out, remember?"

Her thumb was stroking Yasha's flushed, damp cheek almost of its own accord, but now she moved it purposefully to rest at the corner of her mouth and leaned forward to kiss that clammy brow. "You're safe," Beau murmured, and it was a reassurance and an oath that burned fierce and hot in her chest.

She felt Yasha's palm against her stomach, cool and firm over that little bit of scar she'd stared at. "I wasn't strong enough to help when you needed me," she whispered, so quiet that Beau only heard it because she was listening to every part of her, as always.

Beau squeezed her fingers. "Do you have nightmares every time it happens?"

Yasha turned her face away. "If I were stronger it wouldn't keep happening."

So, yes.

Beau curled her fingers along Yasha's jaw and tilted her face with the lightest pressure, trying not to think whether she had slept through something like this last night. Yasha followed her touch to look up at her, and Beau could see the echo of that same deep regret that had weighed her down once the demon baby had been killed, that expression she'd worn when she thought Beau wasn't looking.

Beau took in the stark expression calming by degrees, those trembling shoulders beginning to still inside the leather. "Yasha, can I…tell you something?"

Yasha's eyes moved past Beau for the first time to take in their sleeping friends, flicked towards what they could see of Caduceus from the neck down.

"Everyone's asleep," Beau said gently. "And Caduceus won't tell anyone. It's just you and me. I wanna...I was going to write a letter back." She glanced away, then back to Yasha. "I decided to do something else in the end but." She gestured vaguely to the tower they weren't in, the date they weren't on. "I want to tell you my side, I guess. If you want."

Yasha swallowed. "Okay. But I don't know if I…I'll listen, of course."

Beau nodded. "It took me a while to get my head around yours too. There's no pressure." She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts.

Beau had tried, in the last few days, to write a return letter to Yasha. How could she not return what Yasha had given her? But she had known then, discarding page after page - even if she succeeded in collecting and organizing all of the disparate thoughts she'd put to paper, she was a long way away from the kind of person who could give them up in a tangible, irrefutable form. The kind of strength it took to say important things in a way someone could hold onto was Yasha's. Beau wasn't there yet.

But this wasn't about her. Yasha had so neatly turned her world upside down, and now she was here and cracked open by nightmares and old wounds. If there was ever a time for Beau to try and return the favor, it was tonight. She looked down at their joined hands and was grateful to find that the sight filled her with strength and not nausea.

"I've seen you too," she began. "I think you already know that part, but. Bear with me, I'm going somewhere with it." She was gratified by the smallest of smiles, a quirk of Yasha's mouth against her thumb where it still rested there. "I don't know much about your life before you found us. I want to," she added, "if you ever felt like sharing, but my point is that I do know that there were a lot of people wanted you to be something for them. Almost everyone you knew had this, like. _Agenda_ for how to use you." She risked a glance at Yasha's face. She was watching Beau attentively, traces of anxiety hovering around her eyes. "I know what that's like," Beau continued, "and I know you think you don't have a strong will. But you do, Yasha."

Yasha's brow furrowed just slightly. "You have never let anyone tell you what to be," she murmured. "If I have learned how to undo anything, it has been because of you. You burn so brightly."

A thundering snore ripped from the direction of Veth and they both paused, breathless. But nobody stirred, and Caduceus's snow-covered ears didn't even flick towards them. Beau exhaled and considered how she might get closer to Yasha. She moved her hand from Yasha's cheek to her hip and when she didn't pull away, Beau levered her weight forward and pushed gently. Yasha rolled onto her back, bemused but willing, and now Beau could whisper almost directly into her ear lying half on top of her. "Is this okay?" she managed to sound less breathless than she felt.

Yasha nodded, wide eyed.

"Okay," said Beau. She smiled. "I couldn't feel my arm."

Some of the tension deflated as Yasha huffed quietly. "Me either," she confessed. "But I didn't want to let go."

"See?" Beau teased "You got what you wanted. Sorry," she said when Yasha made a face. "Sleep brain is still on. Back to what I was saying."

It took her a second to collect her train of thought again because sleep brain was also keenly aware of how close their lips were like this, how if she concentrated she might feel Yasha's heart beating against her own. Beau pushed the thought away with effort. Yasha was listening, she had to focus.

"So we both know how all that turned out for me," she said. "The whole 'fuck you dad,' winding-up-in-a-monastery thing. But I think it's funny," she said, "that you see me as the one who…stayed true to myself or whatever. Nuh-uh," she said gently when Yasha's mouth opened. "We are pretending this is a very shitty letter, okay? Let me get it all out." Yasha's sigh was fond, and Beau flashed another quick smile of thanks. "You didn't have to learn jack shit from me, Yasha, you're a rebel all on your own." She gestured. "Look at you. All you've ever done when you're left alone is like…nurture stuff." She shifted a little, let her thigh rest comfortably between Yasha's.

"You took a spine from a creepy demon baby today just so you can use it to make music later. I've seen you pick flowers for months, ever since I've known you, just so you can share them one day." She didn't say Zuala's name, knew she didn't have to. "You said that _I_ love so fiercely, but Yasha all you _are_ is love - and light. A bunch of assholes forced you to be a weapon, but every choice you've made on your own has been for nothing but good. They couldn't break you, Yasha. You're still you."

Yasha's face had gone very soft and uncertain, but she didn't say anything. Beau pressed her free hand over Yasha's heart and said, "You've only ever wanted to take care of people, and you've taken everything you were forced to be and used it to _make sure you can._ You're not a monster or - or anyone's weapon." She looked Yasha in the eye and said the only line that had been present on every aborted sheet of paper she'd tossed in a cat hole: "You're a _hearth_."

Yasha looked stunned, but Beau hadn't spent the last several weeks and months with an eye on her for nothing. She could recognize processing versus denial, and besides - Beau was pretty certain she'd looked about the same way after reading Yasha's letter.

"A hearth." Yasha said it like _a moon_ , or _a home_ , like it was the sort of thing she'd never considered strictly attainable and was now unsure how to accept it. She said it like Beau would say _girlfriend_. "I…I like that."

Beau felt her ears turn red and staunchly ignored the sensation. "You are though." She forgot to whisper and glanced around before continuing. "Hearths are fuckin'…sturdy. There's always fire, like warmth and light and -" her face was growing darker with every second Yasha's shy smile broadened. "I already said I like you," Beau snapped, in a whisper this time. "This is just…more of that."

She froze as Yasha reached up and tucked that single rogue strand of hair that always popped out. "I have a question," Yasha said, and she said it like _a question_. "When do people usually kiss each other, when they do it the right way?"

There was a very slight tease in Yasha's voice, and Beau's mouth was suddenly bone dry. The very memory of moisture had fled. She managed a kind of "Uhhh…yes" from the desert that had become her mouth. "I think I used up all my good words."

It was a stupid answer, but there was precious little left of the anxiety and sadness in Yasha's eyes as she chuckled softly, and that counted for, well, everything.

Yasha let go of Beau's hand, but only so that she could wrap her warm and solid arm around her. She reached for Beau's face with the other, dragged her thumb gently over Beau's cheekbone like she'd been the one crying instead. "Can I kiss you, Beau?"

Beau nodded jerkily. Yes, very much yes. "Y- I mean yeah, uh-huh but like, I also just woke up, so. Just letting you know, it's. Yeah."

Yasha waited politely for her to finish before pressing her fingers into the back of Beau's neck to tilt her head up. "Yeah," she agreed, and kissed her.

In the beginning, Beau had largely imagined kissing Yasha as a means to an end - some frantic, nigh-animalistic claiming that left her with swollen lips and a small blood blister if she was lucky. And part of her still wanted that, absolutely. She was, at the end of most days, a simple girl with simple needs.

But one of Beau's earliest signs that she might have fucked up and caught like, feelings, had been imagining Yasha turning that _gentleness_ onto her instead, touching her softly, playing Beau with the care and attention of her harp. She liked that too, but it was much harder to imagine - namely because there was fuck all in her memory filed under "handle with care."

It wouldn't have mattered. Whatever daydream she might have managed to cobble together by playing back old kisses in slow motion and subtracting adrenaline were bullshit and even if she'd had a soft kiss, it wasn't _Yasha's._

Objectively it was little more than a tease as these things went, but to Beau it felt like liquid flame. It ran the same tracks as arousal, but what pooled in her belly was soft and bright and moved up to make her chest feel full and weightless, not down. It felt, frankly, like every time she'd seen Yasha coming over the hill, or waiting for them in a tavern - every time she'd come back. Every time she'd chosen them, had chosen Beau.

It did also feel like Beau needed to hydrate some, but that was okay. The little things made it real.

Beau touched her fingers to her mouth and tried to think of something better to say than "thanks." Yasha didn't look like she was waiting for a response; she had rested her head on the ground again and was looking up at the solid sheet of darkness like she could see through it to the snow falling beyond. She was smiling. So was Beau.

After a moment, Yasha turned her head to meet Beau's eyes. "Are you comfortable?"

Beau was still touching her mouth, and she hastily tried to find another place for her hand. "I…yeah. I am." And she was. Yasha's body was the soft warmth to Beau's wiry heat, and they fit together perfectly like this.

"Good." Yasha's eyes closed, and she made a little hum of contentment when Beau wiggled to lie on her more fully and pressed her ear to Yasha's chest. And that…oh, she could sleep on the push-pull of Yasha's heartbeat for an hour or a year and wake up completely revitalized. Where had this been?

"Goodnight, Yasha," she whispered. "Sweet dreams."

But Yasha was already out.


End file.
